Burning Shadows
by orukaz
Summary: REWRITTEN: Lately, Abby seems to be caught in a ring of fire. And having a bloodthirsty shade lingering in the back of her mind isn't helping the case much. Luckily she has allies in the task of surviving… Spoilers HP:DH & slightly AU, Slash lateron
1. Zero

The motivation for this fic came from reading several Mary Sue parodies as well as Mary Sue stories. I wanted to try to write a fic with an OC in it and keep it realistic, not to mention write some decent fiction.

Since English's not my first language this is a practicing piece for me, too, so bear with me if I make mistakes (Best point them out to me so I can correct them).

And the events in the 7th book partly happen later here because I started writing this before it was released and I didn't want to change my original storyline so heavily.

Disclaimer & Warnings: If I owned HP, would I have let Fred die? … No, I wouldn't have. So I don't own it, Rowling does. There, was that so difficult?

This story contains **Spoilers for HP:DH** and light** slash** in future chapters, though nothing graphic.

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**Zero**

The girl's body was spasming now, shuddering under the immense amount of _being_ that was forced inside her. He felt himself being sucked in by her raspy breathes, his greyish body fading like smoke in harsh wind. The fear had long turned into rage, the pain only inciting it.

And there he stood, the man with the snake-like face, grinning smugly, nine men in black cloaks, their faces hidden by the hoods and masks, aligned in a halfcirle around the glowing signs on the ground.

_That wimpy bastard!_, he thought as his attempts to resist the pull grew weaker. _I am __**so**__ going to make you pay for this!!_ There was no way the girl's body would be able to contain such a large spirit like him; she would die and he would rip that damned smirk off the man's face.

And suddenly she pressed her lips shut, interrupting the ritual halfway to immaterialness. His eyes were still his own, therefore he could see her muscles tensing even more, struggling not to give in.

The glowing of the runes became brighter when they fought against stronger antagonism and the hooded men shifted slightly. The man with slitted nostrils just grinned and raised this weird stick-thing of his, pointing it at the girl.

"_Crucio_", he said.

"AAAAAHHH!!" Her mouth snapped open, releasing a scream of agony, a mere second before the blinding pain struck the spirit. _Oh no…_

And then he knew, he was lost. Her mind reached out for him with freezing fingers, fumbling along his back, enveloping him. He wanted to shout, to cry to make the pain subside, but it was just the cold numbness of her fainting self that could cease it. The man would not stop until he was caged inside the girl. And the last thing he felt was a ribcage, raising and falling with heavy breaths, of a body that wasn't his.

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Short, but it's just the prologue. The next chapters will become longer. Please review, and flames will be used to roast marshmallows (although they show at least that someone cared enough to make the effort XD).


	2. One

So, here's the first chapter!! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer & Warnings: If I owned HP, would I have let Fred die? … No, I wouldn't have. So I don't own it, Rowling does. There, was that so difficult?

This story contains **Spoilers for HP:DH** and light** slash** in future chapters, though nothing graphic.

**----------**

**One**

Abby Midgewood woke up. Her nightshirt was sweaty and stuck to her skin like glue. She sat up, cursing passionately about humidity in general. She reached for the brush and pulled it resolutely through her hair.

It was more or less straight and had this kind of tone when you can't decide wether it's blonde or brown - she liked it, nonetheless. When she had been little, it had been of a darkbrown color, it had lightened up over the years; much to her parents' surprise whose hair had darkened with time. Her eyes had changed, too. Earlier they were a - beautiful, it's the best word - shade of steelblue. Everyone else's eyes were simply greyblue, or babyblue, or whatever. _Her _eyes were steelblue. And after that - _THAT_ - incident, there were little green dots all over the irises. Green dots. Not that she didn't like green, it was just that her eyes now looked like… like someone had taken two pots of very gooey blue and green and had done a really horrible job at mixing.

Abby groaned and went for the shower. It was september, it wasn't supposed to be so hot!

It was now her sixth year, and Hogwarts was a total, complete and utter _mess_. After Dumbledore's death the school had been closed, but now, when many high-ranked wizards had pointed out it would be probably more safe for the young wizards and witches here than anywhere else it was reopened. Security had been heavily increased, even more than the time the Chamber of Secrets had been opened.

There was a lot of self-defense lessons now, given by various teachers, especially due to the lacking of a Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. Slughorn proceeded to teach Potions, but focusing more on poisons, antidotes, the fast identification of the former and the equally fast production of the latter. McGonagall had taken up the place of the headmistress beside Transformations, which left her most of the time exhausted and therefore irritable. She had also decided to drop the whole thing with house points - the pupils should work together in an emergency, not start arguments about house rivalries. The sorting ceremony at the beginning of the year had remained, though. Abby snorted at the sheer irony of it.

She stepped out of the shower and dried herself. School was going for three weeks now and she really liked it, despite the fact that Voldemort and companions could show up every moment and murder them all. But it was unlikely. Abby wasn't utopian - she was realistic: why should He Who Must Not Be Named (What was that for a name, anyway? The Really Really Bad Guy sounded far more descriptive. And funnier) massacre a bunch of more or less angst-ridden teenagers that weren't even a threat to him and his army of Death Eaters, but were guarded quite well by aurors and other powerful magicians? He would succeed (in the part of murdering them all), that was for sure, but it would cost him definitely a few of his followers and why should he kill someone who could possibly become one of his henchmen later when he succeeded in the part of taking over the world?

And, most importantly, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived (Another stupid nickname) had not returned to school. Abby suspected he was somewhere in the muggle world, plotting a way to bring Voldemort down. The Dark Lord had other things to worry about than said bunch of teenagers.

Maybe she just didn't want to think about what would happen if he decided it was worth the cost. Life was a habit you don't really want to get rid off.

When she dressed, the girl in the bed next to her, Sarah Abbott, shifted and half-sat up, blinking sleepily. "Whaddime isit?", she mumbled.

"You can go back to sleep, it's not even seven yet", Abby replied, grabbing her wand and stuffing it into her pocket. Sarah 'hm'ed absent-mindedly and fell back into the pillows. Abby made her way down to the common room - they weren't allowed to be outside their respective common rooms/dorms after six o' clock but no one had ever said something about it being prohibited to be out early - through the portrait of two young monks playing chess and into the hallway.

"What are you doing again so early?", asked the first one, moving a white pawn.

"These are dangerous times, little girl", added the other one.

"I know it by now", Abby said, "I just couldn't sleep." She waved a good-bye and walked in the direction of the great hall. The corridors were empty aside from two wizards who had taken the early patrol shift. She avoided them and finally got to the great hall, peeking inside. Rays of milky sunlight shone through the high windows, giving everything a dream-like glow. The sky was mildly clouded and still reddish. Grinning, she spotted a few house elves that were cleaning the floor, the food already sitting on the long tables. She opened the doors a bit farther and slipped inside.

" G' Morning!", she greeted them. The house elf next to her jumped at least half a metre in the air from the sudden noise. He turned around to meet her with wide eyes. "Mi-Miss!", he squeaked. "W-What are you doing here already?!"

Abby chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Another house elf hurried towards them, slightly pushing the first one aside. He bowed deeply. "Mistress, I apologize for you being not able to dine in calmness", he said in a high-pitched voice, "We will immediately leave so you are not to be bothered with---" He stopped as he noticed that Abby had taken a seat at the Ravenclaws' table.

"How often do I have to tell you it's okay? I like your company." She took a bread and smeared it with jam.

It was true. At breakfast the atmosphere was again very tense since school had started. The post came, and with it, news from families or the Daily Prophet, that told of deaths and disappearing people and other things one usually does not want to think about while eating.

The house elves continued cleaning, not really confused by her presence, with exception for the house elf who had jumped: he cast her some nervous glances. They were finished soon and left, but not without biding Abby a reverent farewell. She was done eating around the time other early risers entered the great hall. She went back to her dorm where the other girls were currently dressing to get her books.

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I don't really like the part with the house elves, but otherwise it's acceptable, I think. Now: What do **you** think?


	3. Two

Disclaimer & Warnings: If I owned HP, would I be sitting here and writing this? No, I wouldn't. So I don't own it, Rowling does and makes a shitload of money with it.

This story contains **Spoilers for HP:DH** and light** slash** in future chapters, though nothing graphic.

A/N: Some swearing in this chapter, but I think you can well handle it ;-) And we're on our best way into the action…

**----------**

**Two**

Professor Binns' class was as boring as ever, slowly but surely turning Abby's brain into jelly. She was eternally grateful when there was a knock on the door, interrupting Binns' endless speech. "Yes?", he said, quite irritated by the fact that someone disturbed his lesson. The door opened and Professor/Headmistress McGonagall entered.

"I apologize for bothering you", she said, "but I need to speak with one of your students immediately." Professor Binns just nodded, still irritated. McGonagall turned, now facing Abby. She froze when she saw the headmistress' grave expression. _Uh-oh_. "Miss Midgewood, to my office please."

o

McGonagall strode forward and Abby had to hurry to keep up with her. At the time they reached the stone griffin she was slightly out of breath. The professor had not spoken all the while, nor looked at her. They climbed the spiral staircase, stepping inside the office.

"Have a seat", McGonagall said and gestured towards the chair in front of the clawfeeted desk, meanwhile sitting down in the armchair behind it. She placed her elbows on the desk, crossed her scrawny fingers and focused Abby with an intense stare. Abby fidgeted a bit, then asked: "So - what do you want? Did I set something on fire?" She tried to make it sound easy, but it came out more forced than intended. And actually, she had…

"Someone, rather", answered Professor McGonagall dead-serious. Abby grimaced.

"Look, if you're talking about that Charles Perryman--"

"You injured a student because of a stupid insult", the older woman stated coldly.

"Firstly, it was just his freaking cravat! Secondly, I didn't mean to! And thirdly, he said the muggle-born would attract Voldemort to Hogwarts and that's just bollocks!!" Abby panted, suddenly realizing she had shouted. _Shit_.

McGonagall, who had leaned into the backrest during Abby's outburst, eyed her with a wary gaze, like one would look at an interesting yet dangerous animal. Abby _hated_ that look. The doctor from St. Mungo's had given it her after that incident, Dumbledore too, and now McGonagall.

There was silence between them. The former headmasters in their portraits had stopped faking to be asleep (in a not-so convincing way) and watched intently. Strangely, Dumbledore's portrait did not hang there, Abby supposed it was not yet finished. After a few moments McGonagall sighed and adjusted her glasses. "Miss Midgewood… How is your current state of mind?"

Abby scowled at her. _You mean aside from being about to explode? _"I'm fine", she all but growled. The look the professor gave her clearly said she didn't believe her but left it at that. "I hope you're well aware of the fact that in your present condition your emotions affect your magical powers much more than usual. I know it is difficult to restrict strong feelings like anger, especially at your age, but if events like this accumulate, I'll have to have you see a----" She didn't get any further because Abby jumped up, banging her fists on the wooden surface of the desk.

"I don't need a fucking headshrinker!! I-- "

WAMM!!

Abby jerked backwards at the sudden noise. McGonagall breathed heavily, looking in shock at her student. Shaking, Abby reached up to touch her cheek, flinching when pain erupted from the wet spot. She looked at her fingers, stained red and black.

"What…", she aspirated. McGonagall, having partly recovered from her shock, pointed wordlessly to the side of her desk. Where earlier had stood an inkbottle was now a large stain of black ink and broken glass. Ink dots and glass shards were scattered all over the desk and on the floor.

"Do you understand now what I mean, Miss Midgewood? We can be grateful the Ministry hasn't yet noticed anything. They would have come for sure to… examine you."

"I know." Defeated, Abby sighed. "I'll try my best - but I won't go to some crazy therapist." The corners of McGonagall's mouth went up into something that could have been a gentle smile.

"You should go to Madame Pomfrey and let her treat the cut, to prevent an infection. Oh, and Miss Midgewood", she added as Abby turned around to leave. "The house elves reported to me you're quite early at the breakfast tables. May I ask how you avoid the aurors that are patrolling? If an adolescent can - fool - them, I should worry if they're doing a good job."

Abby hesitated what to answer. She did not really know how she did it. She always seemed to be where the wizards were not. "I don't know", she finally confessed, "Perhaps this _thing _inside me does more than I thought." With that she quickly made her way to the door before the headmistress could change her mind. The eyes of the men and women in the portraits followed her. It felt like they were trying to pierce her skull. And suddenly the fury inside flared up again, a roaring beast, screaming at her to tear them all to shreds, those who looked at her like she was a monster.

Abby quickened her pace until she was running, racing down the flight of stairs, stumbling as she rounded the edge, _Run_, she thought, _Keep_ _running_. _Wear yourself out._

It worked. The anger subsided and the urge damage, to _hurt_ someone faded. However, before she could slow down she collided with a wall. Well, not exactly a wall. Walls usually did not appear in the middle of a corridor, even in Hogwarts. It was more like a human. Abby tripped, falling tumbling down, taking the other with her and making painful contact with the floor.

"Oww…", she groaned as she held her throbbing elbow. Sitting up, she looked at the persons she had run into. It was a girl with long, paleblond hair, the crest of the house Ravenclaw on her coat. And she wore a necklace of butterbeer corks. "Ah, sorry", she said and stood up, extending her hand to the girl. "Luna", she added as she noticed the earrings in the shape of radishs. 'Loony' Lovegood. Her father ran _The_ _Quibbler_, Abby recalled.

Luna did not reach for the offered hand, instead she looked Abby over with an odd gaze.

"Your eyes just changed their colour", she stated with a voice that seemed to come from far away.

"They… did what?" Abby stepped back, stunned. Luna raised herself from the ground, dusting off her coat and peering around. "They changed colour. From green to blue", she replied, still looking on the floor, "Have you seen my wand?" Luna looked at Abby with a pensive expression. "Maybe the wobblers took it when it dropped. They steal pencils and stuff like that, you know", she mused.

_Riiight_, Abby thought. Luna believed in the existence of everything as long as it was not proven. She turned around to search for the wand. It was not long until she spotted it. Apparently it had just rolled away a few metres. She handed it to Luna who nodded - "So they didn't take it" - and suddenly pulled out a giant, red-flowered handkerchief. She reached for Abby's face and Abby flinched, grabbing her wrist.

"What do you…"

"You have an ink stain on your cheek", Luna answered, not confused in the slightest.

"No cut?", Abby whispered, her eyes widening.

"No cut", Luna confirmed and Abby's jaw dropped. The blonde used the chance to rub over her skin and erase the black spot. Abby leaned against the wall, breathing audibly and sliding down to the floor. She rested her head in her palms.

"What the hell is happening to me?", she murmured. Luna squatted in front of her, again this slightly surprised expression on her face.

"Are you okay?", she asked. Abby laughed hoarsely.

"I think I'm going crazy…"

"… You're not crazy. At least not as crazy as I am." Abby looked at her. Coming from someone who stuck her wand behind her ear for storage, she was not sure how to take this. Although Luna did not…

"Well, at least you don't have some freaky demon-spirit-thing in your body", Abby whispered, a bit too loud she noticed a second later.

"You mean a spirit from the sphere in between?" Abby startled as Luna bounced, her eyes shining with excitement. "My father wrote about them", she continued, completely ignoring Abby, and rummaged through her cloak until she pulled out a bent edition of _The_ _Quibbler_. She skimmed through the pages, abruptly stopping. "What kind of spirit is it?", she asked slowly.

"I don't know… There was - fire and…" Abby tried to remember, but the most was just a black gap in her memory. The fire, though, she recalled, and the pained bellowing.

"Fire…", Luna repeated, "Maybe the shadow of a dragon…"

"Luna, I have no idea what it is and actually I couldn't care less if it wasn't for the damned fact that it's caged inside me!" Luna looked up, tilted her head and eyed Abby.

"You don't look like you're possessed… and you're not reacting to the charm." Abby was still too confused to protest about the 'possessed'-part. "What charm?", she asked. Luna fingered a bit with her butterbeer corks necklace, holding up one that had a wolfed symbol engraved. "It's a charm against beings that are controlled by spells or spirits", she explained.

"So I'm not possessed. Good news", Abby said sarcastically. _But maybe_… She stood up. "…I've got still class, Luna." Luna rose, too, _The_ _Quibbler_ still in her hands. "Um, could I borrow _The_ _Quibbler_? Just for a few days."

"Sure", Luna said, handing it to her. She gave Abby a daydreamer-smile and walked away. And Abby stood there in the empty corridor with _The_ _Quibbler_ and the distinct feeling that something was about to change and she was not sure if she liked it.

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At the end, I want to thank my one and only /sniff/ but incredibly supporting reviewer, SecretsBeneathMySoul/huggles/

R&R guys.


	4. Three

Disclaimer & Warnings: If I owned HP, would I have let Snape die? … No, I wouldn't have. Seriously, he's, like, the coolest bad/good guy ever. So the inevitable conclusion is; I don't own it, Rowling does.

This story contains **Spoilers for HP:DH** and** slash** in future chapters, though nothing graphic.

**----------**

**Three**

"Abby, what happened to your eyes?"

"I don't know, tell me."

"Dunno, they're blue again. Weren't they somewhat green and you totally freaked 'cause of that?"

"Well, my dear Josh, then there's nothing wrong with them being blue again", Abby replied and turned towards the dinner table, signaling Josh she did not intend to go deeper into the subject. Josh Garret, a slender boy with only five freckles (although he insisted on having none, and always blushing heavily when Abby returned: 'Yes you have, and you look cuter with them'), pouted, but turned his attention at his plate though.

"By the way, you could thank me for carrying all your stuff", he remarked, "What took you so long? McGonagall sent you straight to detention or what?" Abby mumbled something incomprehensible, chewed and swallowed. "Had a run-in with Luna. Talked a bit."

"_A bit?_", Josh echoed. "Wait, you mean Loony Lovegood? That crazy chick the year over us?" Abby slowly turned her head and glared at him. "Her name's Luna." Josh ducked under the killerlook, raising his hands in defeat.

"Yeah, yeah! But she's crazy", he muttered. However, he seemed to want to dwell on the subject of the run-in a little longer.

"So… what did you talk about? Must've been interesting since you were gone for quite a while…"

Abby pondered if she should pretend she hadn't heard the salacious undertone or go for the challenge. She decided for the latter. "Well, actually we had a hot make-out session on the corridor floor", she stated casually. Josh's jaw dropped, his cheeks flushing. "Wha-- you- …really?!", he sputtered.

"Close your mouth, Josh, or someone will stick his tongue inside." Abby grinned. "No, we hadn't, Sherlock. Seriously, did you believe that?" Josh, still blushing, voiced something under his breath and resumed eating. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His cheeks were still slightly reddened, his adam's apple was bobbing up and down when he swalloed. _He must've become thinner_, she thought, _Last year it was not so clearly to see…_

Abby liked Josh. Hell, they even went out together in their third year. Just for about a month, but hey. Although he could be annoying at times, he was funny and sometimes really cute. But Abby could not tell him what happened last summer. Not after she saw him cry when his family was attacked. He always acted like nothing could affect him, but it did; and she did not want to frighten him.

But Luna… Luna hadn't been afraid. She had been surprised. Even excited. And that almost scared Abby.

o

Abby returned _The Quibbler_ two days later to Luna, having found her in the library. The article about the sphere between had not been all that long. However, now she knew (assuming what it said was true) that these spirits, 'shadows' of something that had died through powerful magic, absorbing it, were akin to ghosts, although they were usually not in contact with the human world. But they could be summoned (_Who would've thought_?, Abby mentally scoffed when she read this) by someone who knew how and had enough power to accomplish this.

When Luna had stuffed the magazine in her bag, she continued writing something on a very long scroll of parchment. Abby rocked a bit forth and back on her heels - she wanted to talk to Luna but did not know how to start. In the end, she took the direct approach.

"Luna, I- could we talk? About… you know, the spirit business." She did not think someone was eavesdropping, but one never could be too cautious, so she tried to keep it vague. Luna nodded, eyes still on the parchment. Her left hand wandered around searchingly, grabbing a chair and pulling it next to her. Her tongue sticked out between her lips, obviously in concentration. It was pinker than one would usually expect, Abby noticed.

"I read the article", she started, then dropped her voice to a whisper, "and I--" She stopped when Luna held a finger to her mouth. The blonde drew her wand and silently casted a _Muffliato_ spell around them. "Go on", she said.

"… I suppose you're right about what you said it's a dragon. And they don't really live, at least in our sense of the word. But there was just written that they could be summoned and nothing more about it." For a second Abby thought an expression of gloom had skittered over Luna's face, so she added: "But it's good to know at least _what_ it is. It's kinda weird if there's something _living_ inside of you and it's affecting you and you don't even know what it is…", she trailed off. _Maybe I just imagined it…_

"It's affecting you?", Luna asked. Abby gestured in midair. "Yeah… like, when I get upset it - I don't know - _fuels_ it and I somehow… it's not that I lose control, more like slipping a bit, I do magic unintentionally and without a wand…", she ended slightly helplessly. Luna staked her ellbows onto the desk, resting her chin in her palms.

"When I was six, a flower in our garden that I really liked 'cause it was nearly as tall as me then and gaudy, withered during summer. I was really sad about it and even cried, but the next day it was blooming again." Luna wore a nostalgic expression now. "I thought it was the work of a friendly fairy but my father told me if people with magical power experience very strong feelings they cast magic without knowing." Abby smiled at Luna's lost-in-memories-face. "That's what Dumbledore told me, too. Only it happens more easily in my case because the spirit has great power that I can't even detect and we kind of… share the emotions."

Luna came back from her dream, smiling softly. "You don't like it…? You're never alone now."

Abby wanted to tell her that she did not consider showering when you knew there was someone, something watching you through your own eyes a benefit. That she would sometimes wake up in the dead of night, the pained roaring of an animal echoeing in her skull. That she practically set Charles Perryman on fire because he upset her a little. _Although… He kind of deserved it, didn't he? Acting like he was better than you, that wretched creature…_

Abby stared for a full ten seconds until realization struck her. She nearly toppled over, only Luna's hand seizing the front of her cloak preventing her from making unpleasant contact with the floor. Luna pulled her upright again and watched her worriedly. "What was that?"

Abby's face was white, her eyes still dilated in shock and clutching her hands to keep them from shaking. "It---it just-", she croaked, gulped and then her voice became a hoarse whisper, "It talked. To me."

"What did it say?!", Luna asked, leaning closer.

"It… You know Charles Perryman? He-he kind of insulted me and I got angry and… set his cravat on fire and-- it said he deserved it…" Luna gazed at her with awe.

"Ask it something!"

"What? It didn't say a word since last summer!", Abby exclaimed, "What on earth…"

_Girl, I'd rather have you not refer to me as 'it' if you don't want to repeat the incident with the cravat._ Abby whipped around, half-expecting the spirit to stand behind her.

"Then tell me!", she hissed and glared at the empty air in front of her. Luna stood up, reaching for her arm.

"It talked again?" Abby turned around, and suddenly fire flooded her jaw.

"It has been a while since I last had a body but I'm quite certain it was male." Her hands flew to her mouth - she definitely had not said that (And not only because of the fact that she was female). Luna's eyes widened, first with surprise and then with obvious glee.

"You're the spirit!", she exclaimed, "What's your name?!" Abby was absolutely dumbstruck. How could Luna just act as if it was the most common thing in the world that some spirit controlled your body? She could feel the shadow taking his time to reply. Finally, he answered: "Rekhyt."

Suddenly there were faint footsteps audible, slowly approaching the two of them. Rather, the three. Luna hastily ceased the muffling spell. It would be rather strange to see them talking without hearing anything. _Give me back my body!_, Abby thought furiously. _Not yet…_, Rekhyt replied and she felt her mouth twist into a cruel smile, _It's him_…

He said back down, casually flinging Abby's legs one over another. Luna also seated herself again on her chair, a breathless grin plastered on her features. She found this whole affair obviously most exciting. _Damn, Luna_, Abby thought, _could you at least __**try**__ to talk to me_?

The footsteps were now near and one second later the appendant feet including bodies rounded the row of bookshelves. It were Charles Perryman and some of his friends. _Oh_. _**Him**_. When he noticed them, he stopped and approached them. He leaned against one of the bookshelves, looking first at Luna then Abby.

"That's quite the unusual company, Abby. Where's Freckle-Boy?", he asked in a smug voice, which he knew would upset her. Abby growled mentally (she did not really have a choice to do otherwise), but then Rekhyt cooed: _Don't worry girl, I'll take care of that_. And aloud he drawled: "If I didn't knew better, Charlie, I'd say you're _jelaous_."

Charles self-satisfied face slipped for a split-second but was back in place immediately. Luna slightly shifted her position and eyed the two pupils next to Charles.

"Jealous of _what_, exactly?", he replied, "I don't hang around with lunatics." He shot a quick glance at Luna but she did not even seem to have noticed. Rekhyt untangled Abby's legs and stood up.

"Then what do you want from me?", he breathed dangerously low, slowly backing Charles against the shelf. "You gain neither wealth nor power from this. So does your twisted little mind get pleasure out of mockery?" Abby was, to say the least, surprised by the way Rekhyt had effectively cornered Perryman between her arms and the shelf. The boy's eyes darted around, searching for an escape, and there was this little spark in them. Fear. Rekhyt grinned predatorily.

"Or… do you enjoy playing with fire? Because--"

"Leave him alone!" The voice that interrupted him belonged to the skinny girl who had accompanied Charles. Her fists were clenched and she trembled lightly but managed to hide it quite well. A rustle indicated Luna had decided to stand as well. Rekhyt looked at the girl, contemplating.

"I'm not the one who tried to start an argument, that was our dear Charles here…", he said. "Dear" Charles chose this moment to try to dodge under Abby's arms but Rekhyt was faster; he grabbed him by the collar and lifted him in the air. He scowled while Abby was more or less speechless. Although she was not in control of it, this was still _her_ body and she was sure she was not that strong, being able to lift someone at least her weight with just one arm.

"Let go, freak!" Charles all but squeaked.

"You seem to like getting burned, boy", the shade hissed, pressing Charles against the books. He gasped and struggled to reach for his wand. Rekhyt smiled self-contently._ I'll leave this to you…_, he purred and the fieriness in Abby's limbs receeded, leaving coldness and a strange, tingling feeling behind. Her arm ached but she ignored it. Charles was helpless and it would be _so_ easy to teach him a lesson…

"I'm still waiting for an answer", she whispered. "Maybe this time it won't be just your cravat…" His eyes widened with fear. Oh yes… 'Easy' did not even begin to describe it. And then, several things happened at once.

The girl opened her mouth to cry out, most probably for a teacher. The boy who had simply watched until now took a step forward. Charles choked on Abby's hard grip. And Luna's voice, albeit soft, pierced the might-drunken haze that currently enclosed Abby's mind.

"Abby…"

_Madame Pince will kill me if I damage her precious books._

"… stop it."

Abby shrunk back as if she had burned herself. Somewhere in the outskirts of her consciousness Rekhyt groaned with disappointment. She staggered, but caught herself quickly.

o

And that had been it, mainly. There had been stunned silence for about half a minute (of course not on Luna's part, mind you) and then Charles and his friends had hurriedly left them. Fled, to be more accurate. And now…

Now Abby was trying to concentrate on her paper for herbology while Rekhyt was bugging her mercilessly. Not to mention, he succeeded quite well.

_By the way, who was that …um, what was the word you used? Ah yes, anorexic. That anorexic girl who tried to save him? She seemed to be quite on the verge of tears_. Abby's quill scraped over the parchment. She sighed, noticing it was useless to attempt to run two lines of thought at the same time.

_Elisabeth Taylor, I think. I suppose she's his girlfriend. Or at least, she wants to be it_.

_What's a girlfriend?_

Abby groaned and let her head fall into her palms. _What have you been _doing_ the past year_?, she though t, _By the way you talk one should think you picked up a thing or two_.

With a thump Josh settled himself in the chair next to her. He let out sigh of exhaustion, burying his head in his arms. "You're still at that stuff?", he asked, slightly turning his head in Abby's direction.

"Yeah, I-" -_ Shut up, Rekhyt!_ - "… I just can't concentrate right now." She put the quill down and leaned back.

"You know…", Josh said, "Apparently there's been some attack at some wandmaker's shop in Scandinavia by You-Know-Who…" Suddenly Abby was alert.

"Who told you?", she asked, feeling Rekhyt rising from his half-doze.

"Bill. He heard the old hag talk about it with the midget. They wrote nothing in the news about it, though…" He trailed off and looked at her.

_He's scared_.

_I know_.

Abby tucked up her legs and put her arms around them. Josh had an indifferent expression on his face, as if it was nothing to worry about. However, the times when he could fool Abby with it were long gone.

"I can finish it for you", he offered and pointed at her parchment, "I'm already done."

"What!! And risk my good grades?!", Abby shrieked with mock indignation. Josh glowered at her for a second but grinned when he saw her laugh. "I'm serious", he said. Abby smiled in thanks at him and got up.

"You know what? Screw the grades, do it and you're my life-saver", she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. He grinned back at her, "Do I get more than that?", wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Find a time machine and we _might_ talk about it!", she shot back and scooped up her books that didn't deal with herbology. She patted his shoulder and made her way through the crowd of students to her dormroom. There she pulled the curtains aside to dump her books on the bed and froze.

"Hey Abby", greeted Luna.

**----------**

Wooh, big discoveries!! XD And even more to come…

R&R


	5. Four

A/N: I'm so sorry, please don't kill me! /hides from rotten tomatoes being thrown/

I know I'm horribly late with this one, but everything's just piling up on me at the moment and my muse for this fic is being a lazy bitch…

Hope you enjoy anyway!

Disclaimer & Warnings: Don't own it. Nope. Not at all. Wish I owned Robert Pattinson's ass, though… (Ain't he hot? XD)

This story contains **spoilers for HP:DH** and **slash** in future chapters, though nothing graphic.

--

**Four**

Abby let out a startled yelp, her belongings falling from her grasp. "Blimey, Luna!!" She heaved as she got down to gather them up again. "What are you doing here, for Merlin's sake?!"

"Did I scare you?", Luna asked.

"I think that was pretty obvious…", Abby muttered and placed her books in her trunk, while the blonde scooted on the bed to make room for her. She flopped down next to Luna and looked expectantly at the still sitting girl.

"So…?", she said.

Luna remained quiet and simply watched her. While the silence stretched, Abby grew more and more uncomfortable under Luna's unwavering gaze, being used to Josh's perky chatter and never-resting eyes. Rekhyt decided to doze off again. Yet, before it became really awkward, she spoke up: "How did he get inside you?"

Abby stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights. If Luna noticed (she had to be blind not to), she did not comment on it. Abby's mind was racing - she had already leaned quite far out of the window with telling Luna about the shadow (not that she had thought much about it then). She would not go spreading it around, about that the younger witch felt fairly confident, but still…

_Flashback_

When Abby woke up after _IT_ had happened, she felt like vomiting. She retched a few times but nothing more than hot bitter gastric acid came up. She tried sitting up, wincing when a sharp pain shot through her body. She groaned and sank back into the pillows. She turned her head to one side, now taking in her surroundings more detailedly. The ceiling was white, as where the empty walls. And the bedding. Her's were always coloured. The bedstead was made from dull-silver metal; all in all the chamber gave off an atmosphere of clinical sterility.

_This is… not my room_, she finally concluded. It looked like a hospital-- _Wait_. If this was not her room, then how did she… Like a tidal wave the memories came crashing down onto her. The trap. The men. Darkness. Fire. The face, twisted into a sneer. More fire. Voledmort. Pain. The growling voice. Voldemort. More pain. _Voldemort_.

Abby choked, a strangled sob emitting from her throat. She scrambled out of the bed, ignoring the heavy protest of her sore muscles, stumbling over to the only door in the room. Desperately she shook the handle, only to discover it was locked. The door itself consisted of thick steel, she suddenly noticed and looked not quite like it was the kind of door that would budge if you asked nicely enough.

_Oh no_… If this was not a hospital, if they got her… Abby backed off from the door she had one moment ago tried to open, fear eating at her insides. She realized she did not even had her wand with her and that thought brought a feeling of horrible helplessness with it. The ache in her body returned when the short rush of adrenaline died away which left her quivering like a bowstring to stay on her legs.

Abruptly there was a low hiss and the door glid into the left wall, revealing what looked like a nurse carrying a tablet. Abby took another step in direction of the bed, ready to bring some kind of barrier between her and the woman. The woman suddenly noticed Abby standing in the middle of the room.

"My dear!", she exclaimed, set (nearly threw) the tablet aside and rushed to the shivering girl's side. She ushered Abby with soft insistence to the bed, half-shoved her into the mattress and tucked the covers up to her chin. "Now you stay here until you're better, understood?", she ordered her, waving a stern forefinger in front of Abby's nose, who, being completely baffled, just nodded. When her brain kicked in again, the nurse was nearly gone.

"Wait--!" She propped herself cautiously up on her elbows, "Where am I?", she asked.

"In St. Mungo's, my dear", the nurse replied and scurried out, the door sliding shut with a hiss behind her.

…That was a good thing. Probably. In case the woman said the truth. Which was not entirely likely. The more Abby thought about it the more her initial relief at said woman's actions faded. For the first time since she awoke, Abby concentrated on her own mind, trying to force the doubt away. And that was when she felt it. There was something inside her mind. Something that did not belong to her. Like a locked treasure chest, pulsating with life. _So they succeeded_…, she thought dully. But she was interrupted in her train of thought when she heard muffled voices through the door.

"… with all due respect! I have to protest, this is insane!! We don't know…" That voice she did not recognize, however the speaker was obviously furious.

"You are absolutely right, we _don't_ know." This one sounded oddly familiar, and was male. The door opened again and in walked an old wizard with a long white beard and dressed in a dark red cloak held together by a slim, embroidered belt. Abby frowned, squinting at him. _Dumbledore_? While walking, he was in a discussion with another man in a lab coat, who was talking at him.

"It's too risky, Dumbledore! What if He Who Must Not--", he stopped when Dumbledore raised a hand in a gesture of termination.

"I understand your concerns but I assure you this is in no way a threat to the wizarding community. Now, if you may leave us to talk in private…" The doctor scowled at him, objection evident in his eyes. Then, with a snort, he spun on his heel and stalked fuming out into the hallway. Dumbledore sighed and turned to look at Abby.

"Don't worry, Miss Midgewood, your parents were informed but nobody else will know about this…", he said in a calming voice, "… especially not the ministry." Abby did not know what to make out all of this. She sat up gingerly, careful not to strain her muscles and pressed her back lightly against the headboard while the elderly wizard sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What… what was that all about?", she inquired and eyed him warily even though she sensed she was not going to like the answer. Dumbledore glanced shortly at the door which suddenly reminded Abby heavily of a prison door; then spoke:

"Mr Dorsch fears Voldemort might have cast the Imperius curse on you."

"But I'm not…", she protested but stopped midsentence when it dawned her. "They-- they think he'll use me… That this _thing_ will control me-- That he- like a… a…"

"… a weapon behind the adversary lines, yes", Dumbledore finished for her. "However, I know for certain that Voldemort believes he failed; luckily he didn't get time to take his fury out on you. Still", he added before Abby, who had a thousand questions bubbling up in her throat, had the chance to cross-examine him.

"You must not admit anyone into your confidence about this matter. Despite the fact that the ministry has denied Voldemorts return up until recently, at least the mystery department wouldn't hesitate if they had the opportunity to get hold of you."

Abby stared currently rendered speechless into the empty space as the information sunk in. …_A weapon, huh_?, she thought wryly. She felt anger welling up in her chest at the notion of being a mere pawn in the eyes of both the 'good' and the bad guys. The smell of ashes filled her nose.

"Get me out of here." The sudden growl in her voice startled the headmaster albeit he managed not to show it, if it was not for the spark of doubt in his now alert eyes. He stood up and squeezed her shoulder briefly.

"I'll see to it, Abby", he assured her, "Don't worry."

_Flashback End_

Luna leaned against one of the pillars at the four corners of the canopy bed, pulling her legs into a tailor seat. Abby propped herself up on her elbows and bit her lip. "I… I'm not really supposed to talk about it…"

"Shall I guess then?", Luna asked, fiddling with her wand, "You just nod when I'm right so everyone's happy." She smiled, satisfied with her plan. Abby could not help but chuckle at the blonde's ever so serious tone and her very peculiar kind of logic.

"Actually it's more about not anyone knowing than me saying it, Luna."

"So?", She replied, mirroring Abby's earlier expression. She pointed her wand at the dormitory's door and mouthed a spell. The door shut with a bang and the clicking sound of a lock snapping in place was audible. And somehow, with this noise, a switch inside Abby was turned, that made her throw all forbiddances to the wind. She straightened up, grinned and leaned forward, resting her hands on the mattress.

"Guess", she whispered. Luna got a pensive expression and tilted her head to the side, pondering.

"… Voldemort", she said.

_Damn, she's good,_ Rekhyt stated, the smirk evident in his mental voice.

And Abby nodded.

o

Josh shook his head when Abby had disappeared. Damn, that girl could be flirtatious sometimes… _Okay, back to the topic at hand_. The herbology essay. Again he wondered who on earth would ever need to know how some ancient civilisation had used plants with the ability to absorb small amounts of magic to get high. He scanned the scroll of parchment Abby had already written on briefly. She had covered a good three quarters of the topic but at the end there was something strange… He took a closer look on the last two lines:

'Shut Rekhyt- WHAT

never why shut up'

Well, that looked definitely like she had not been able to concentrate. Or had concentrated on something else. He crossed the words out and started writing.

Speak of… Since she had torched that arrogant brat's tie (for what he had applauded her afterwards) Abby often seemed to be far away and somewhat… off. And she had not exactly told him how she had managed to set fire to Perryman without even touching her wand; she had more or less dodged any questions concerning that particular matter.

By the way… What for Merlin's sake was 'Rekhyt'? Was that even a word? It sounded more like some weird name from Arabian Nights. He was shaken from his musings when a female voice drowned out the chatter of the students in the common room.

"Hey, why's the door locked?!" Josh looked up to see Louisa Floret standing in front of the door to the girl's dormitories, rattling the doorframe incredulously. _Didn't Abby just go in there_?, he wondered.

Several other students turned their attention now towards her, the ever present murmur on such occasions cropping up. Louisa shook the doorknob one more time, stepped back when it did not open and pulled out her wand in one swift motion. She pointed at the door and said: "_Alohomora_!"

It swung open, making way for the sound of choked laughter drifting down the stairs that led up to the door. And a low, guttural voice: "… Ha! Bow down before the mighty-- huh?" It were the words Abby would most likely use when she triumphed but the voice was too deep. Louisa had stuck her head into the room to detect the source of the commotion. "Is there a certain reason…", she started, cut herself off a second later, though.

"Blimey, what have the two of you been _doing_?!", she exclaimed.

Now Josh's curiousity was awoken. He rose and made his way towards the stairs, anxious not to step on them because they had the annoying tendency to become a wavy and slick surface when a boy touched them. He poked a girl from second year who had already got a glance inside the dorm.

"What's going on?", he asked. She shrugged, then lowered her voice to a conspiratory whisper (That somehow everyone was able to hear): "Luna's laughing her head off - I think Abby jinxed her with a tickling curse. And… one closet is _totally_ sooty!" Before Josh was able to reply anything, there was another yell.

"My closet!! Abby, _you_…"

"Calm down, I'll fix it!" That was Abby, definitely. But the voice before had been to deep to be either girl's… Louisa abruptly slammed the door shut, cutting off any further noise. Josh stared in confusion, frowning, just like most other students. A boy from his year, Dominic, nudged him lightly.

"Since when's Loony got to hang out with Abby?", he asked, looking as puzzled as Josh felt.

"… I dunno…", he replied slowly; meanwhile the crowd of spectators had nearly dissolved. He was about to proceed writing on the essay when he saw Luna bouncing down the short staircase. He followed her quickly into the corridor which led to the common room.

"Loon-- Luna! Wait!", he called after the girl. She stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned around with a pirouette, her cork necklace flying.

"Yes?", she asked, arms still raised in the air. Josh swallowed.

"Why did you lock the door?" He tried to sound not overly concerned but failed miserably. Luna pranced a few steps away from him, inclining her head slightly.

"No one's supposed to know", she whispered. Josh could not surpress the pang of jealousy that flittered through him at her reply.

"But you are, I assume?", he demanded, anger edged into his voice. She smiled profoundly. "You have to guess…" And she was gone, half-racing, half-dancing down the corridor. "He-hey! It's nearly curfew!", he shouted, but to no use.

_Damn_.

Blimey, what _had_ Abby with this girl? Granted, Luna was pretty (not that this was a reason to develop a friendship with somebody, particularly not for Abby) - but downright mental, too. He swallowed again, forcing the lump which had begun to grow in his throat, away. He kicked sharply at the floor, as if it was responsible for it all, turned around and entered the common room again, shaking his head.

--

I'm actually quite happy with this one…

R&R


	6. Five

Disclaimer: Hereby I declare I do not own Harry Potter or any of his fellas. There. Try and sue me now XP

Warning: **Slash**. Yup. Not yet, but there will be. But nothing explicit because I can't write lemons for the life of me…

I don't think I'll have to put up the Spoilerwarning any longer since it's been like, what, over a year since the last HP volume was released. But, it's somewhat **AU-ish**.

A/N: Yeah, took me long enough to get this one out… But! I might be a lazy bum (okay, I am), but I'm also persistant. I'll get his done. Someday. XD

**--**

**Five**

Minerva McGonagall stared at the cloth that was slung over the now filled frame. The frame was hanging a bit to the left behind her desk in the headmistress' office; larger than the other portraits. She eyed it with a pensive expression, slightly frowning. Finally she sighed quietly, settled herself into the imposing armchair, turning so she was facing the still covered painting, and adjusted her hair bun. On a beckoning of her hand, the cloth flew aside, revealing Albus Dumbledore, most recently passed away headmaster of Hogwarts, school for witchcraft and wizardy.

He looked at her from pale yet piercing eyes, the lank, halfmoon-shaped glasses securely sitting on the bridge of his aquiline nose. His white hair was partly hidden by a velvety hood, his beard decorated with a thin, golden cord. There were lines in his face, of course, but now they seemed more gentle, carved by age and not despair, like they had looked when he had been buried at the lakeside. He sat in a richly cushioned chair, legs obscured by the resplendent cloak he wore; his lips curved in the barest hint of a smile.

"Good day, Minerva", he greeted the current headmistress.

"Hello Albus", she replied as evenly as possible while inside her raged a turmoil of unanswered questions and worry. She really wanted to shout at Dumbledore, why for Merlin's sake, why- Potter! How could you- I thought Snape was a spy for _our_ side, what did you think, why did he-- he's going to _win_ now! Why did that happen--

"What happened, Albus?", she asked instead, her voice stern and demanding. Dumbledore folded his hands and cocked his head while his eyes suddenly held a twinkle in them.

"I assume you're referring to my person, so - I was killed by Severus", he answered, "But I dare say you're well aware of this, seeing as my portrait hangs here." McGonagall drew a deep breath to calm herself. Dumbledore smiled slightly, completely oblivious of the fact he was _dead_ and the wizarding world on the edge of a pitchblack abyss.

"I'll rephrase myself", she said, digging her fingers into the armrest, "_Why_ is your portrait hanging here?" She would not believe that Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards that ever lived, had not suspected anything, that Snape had been able to fool him. Although his reply told her otherwise:

"Sadly, Minerva, I have to admit I'm as clueless as you." McGonagall jumped up which caused her armchair to slither backwards and started pacing the room at high speed. Dumbledore's lips formed a small 'o' of admiring surprise, when she began to mutter to herself.

"You seem to have expected a different answer", he stated, sitting straighter up. The headmistress stopped and whirled around, stabbing an accusing finger in his direction.

"Yes-- yes, I have!", she heaved, breathing sharply. "You assured me, us, and I trusted him! He risked his life countless times for our cause, and then, suddenly he decides to betray us…", she got quieter till the end, finding back to her usual selfcontrol, "Why didn't you notice anything, Albus?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, a pondering expression settling on his face. "Perhaps he saw that it was a hopeless undertaking", he voiced his assumption. McGonagall sat down in the chair again with sagged shoulders and rubbed her temple. She sighed.

"Do you think it's hopeless?", she questioned, looking up to the portrait with weary eyes. Dumbledore shook his head.

"No. If we give up hope, we have already lost." That elicited a hoarse chuckle from the elderly woman.

They remained silent for a while until Dumbledore asked: "How's Fawkes?"

"… He misses you. He's currently at the owlery, the companion of the other birds does him good", McGonagall informed him. He nodded in approval as well as gratitude, an open smile gracing his features. Suddenly she remembered something.

"The umbrago has come to consciousness", she said. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"It did? Well, I hadn't estimated that." McGonagall sighed inwardly. Since he left the land of the living, the former headmaster seemed highly unaffected by matters concerning said land.

"Albus, with the speed the Dark Lord gains power, this means we have a time bomb ticking right inside the school…!" He frowned slightly.

"Are you sure?", he queried, eyeing her intrigued.

"Definitely", she replied, nodding in confirmation.

"Hm… Impressive", Dumbledore hummed. McGonagall came to the conclusion that she would not be able to have a serious, not off-topic conversation with him tonight. Hence she stood up, bid him politely goodnight and exited the office.

o

Josh was getting severely pissed by the minute.

"Hey, Abby! Abby!!", he hissed, trying to be insistent and at the same time keep his voice down so he would not be heard by Professor Flitwick, or, how Josh liked to call him, the 'midget'. He poked Abby repeatedly into the side.

The reason Josh was on the brink of fury was the fact that Abby ignored him - despite his countless calls and pokes. Instead, she stared enrapturedly at Professor Flitwick who demonstrated a specialised version of the _incendio_ spell. It was designed to light a candle and afterwards draw the flame from one point to another, for example to another candle, with a movement of the wand.

He just prayed she did not all of sudden develop a thing for old men – he shuddered inwardly. Then Professor Flitwick told them all (that was, Ravenclaws and Slytherins) in that high-pitched voice of his to use the spell on the candles in front of them.

Josh drew out his wand and shot a questioning glance at Abby.

"You wanna start?"

"Very much", she nodded eagerly, her eyes practically shining with excitement, and arranged the two candles on their desk. In one swift motion, she pulled out her own wand, nearly stabbed it at the first wax column, whilst whispering the spell. An at least three inches and for the slim candle way too large flame erupted from the wick, startling Josh with the sudden heat. He looked back at Abby, whose mouth curved into a wide, teeth-baring smile as she watched the flame flicker. It was oddly alluring, in a way that almost gave him the creeps. But only almost because Josh was a fearless, mature boy like that.

Abby raised her wand to the ceiling and a ball of blazing fire followed suit, leaving a flame of the appropriate size behind at the wick. The ball stretched vertically for a split-second and exercised a series of loopings afterwards. This earned Abby a chorus of "Ohh"'s accompanied by an enthusiastic "Beautiful!! Very good, Miss Midgewood!" from Flitwick as well as ten points for Ravenclaw. Josh noted with smug satisfaction that most Slytherins were watching the now dancing ball of fire with expressions of either awe or envy.

While more and more flames popped into existence, Josh also turned his attention to his own candle. Actually they were supposed to light one and draw the flame to the other one, but since they were all immature brats they rather played around with the fire balls than do what they were told. He voiced the spell, slightly disappointed by the fact that his flame was way smaller than Abby's had been. The flame flickered as he moved his wand sidewards and reluctantly wobbled - yes, the freaking thing _wobbled_, rather than glid - to where the wand pointed. He drew a circle and was positively surprised to see that the fire ball, albeit still wobbling, complied.

Being occupied with his own flame he did not notice the one that was chucked, by accident or purpose is at the moment not really relevant, in Abby's direction - and he happened to sit right in the line of fire (no pun intended).

Of course he would get to know that later as his attention was currently focused on something else; all he knew at this particular moment was that Abby's hand was on his collarbone, slammed him into the row of desks behind them and she dived past him.

Head dizzy from the collision with hard wood, it took him a moment to figure out what exactly just happened. Abby had apparantly made acquaintance with the floor and now came back to eye level, one hand pressed to her mouth and grimacing with pain.

The tumult had caused the others to go silent, the only sound heard was the panting and wheezing from Professor Flitwick as he climbed over desks and chairs to reach them, all the while waggling his wand and demanding to know what happened.

Josh could not help but stare at Abby, gaping like a goldfish. Smoke curled from between her fingers.

o

Five minutes later Josh ushered Abby to the infirmary. She pressed a kerchief to her burnt lips. Josh had wrapped a supporting arm around her shoulders and guided her through the corridors. Abby's eyes stung with tears from the pain - it were not only her lips, her entire mouth was one great blister.

"What in Merlin's name's gotten into you?!", Josh heaved, more worried than angry. He glanced at her sideways.

"You _really_ swallowed it, did ya?", he asked quietly with just a hint of incredulity. Abby gave him a look that would have usually sent him fleeing in terror if he had not been so occupied with concern to begin with.

Abby averted her gaze and sighed inwardly. This was really getting out of hand…

_Rekhyt?_, she thought.

_… Yeah?, _came the meek response.

_I hate you_.

She could feel him cringe at the tone of her mental voice. At least he had the decency to be ashamed. Slightly. Really, what was he thinking?! Humans usually did _not_ tend to possess fireproof skin.

When they arrived and Josh explained the situation to Madame Pomfrey, the nurse immediately went into clucking hen-mode and shipped Abby off onto a bed. Josh sat beside her while they waited for Madame Pomfrey to return with the healing potion. Awkward silence reigned and Josh grew more fidgety with every passing second.

Abby kept him in the dark about something and he did not like it one bit. She was fixing a portrait on the opposite wall with an angry glare. Her whole body was tensed; her fingers clutched the white linen sheets and she gnawed on her lower lip, drawing blood from the already injured flesh.

"Abby…!", he hissed and seized her wrist. Her head snapped around, eyes wide and mouth twisted into a snarl.

Part of Josh wanted to hide in a corner at the wildness in her gaze, but the part which was currently in control nearly flung himself at her.

Abby gave a choppy sound of surprise when her backside was dipped in the mattress. He buried his face in her unruly hair and pinned her with his arms. Her fingers dug in his shoulders like claws.

"Shit, Abby!", he whispered desperately, voice muffled, "What's going on with y--"

Josh yelped when Abby sunk a pair of _searing_ teeth in his cheek - he shied away from her and almost fell off of the bed.

This was how Madame Pomfrey found them; Josh leant backwards, cheek bleeding and staring in shock at Abby, who half knelt on the bed with hunched shoulders and baring her teeth. The fact that her lips were burnt and blood-stained only served to make the sight more terrifying.

The elderly nurse all but dropped the flask she held.

"Dears!", she exclaimed.

Abby suddenly went limp, her shoulders sagged and she wordlessly held out one hand towards the nurse. Madame Pomfrey hesitated for a moment, looking back and forth between the two. Then she decided to simply let the matter rest, walked over to the young witch and handed the flask to her.

"Drink it", she ordered her quietly but in a tone that accepted no objection, "and make sure it wets your lips, too." Hereupon she turned to Josh, beckoning with her wand, "Come here, dear."

She healed the bite quickly - it had not been very deep, it was more the fact that Abby had actually _bitten_ him, that bothered Josh to no end. Abby currently nursed her lips, gingerly coating them with the sticky liquid. She avoided his eyes, kept her head inclined towards the floor. After a few silent minutes when only their soft breathing and the brush-like noise of Abby's fingers were audible, Madame Pomfrey dismissed the two Ravenclaws.

Josh shouldered his bag and stooped to take Abby's as well, yet she stopped him. She lifted it onto her arms, turned halfway towards the staircase, paused, and finally looked at him.

"I'm sorry", she whispered. The reply Josh was about to form caught in his throat. Abby's eyes were of a blazing green colour and she looked as if she were ready to cry. He swallowed, taking a step nearer to her and laid his head on her shoulder.

"It's okay", he whispered, "You… you just fuckin' scared me…" Abby reached up and stroked the patch of new skin on his cheek. Josh inhaled and-

"I won't tell you _why_, so please don't ask…"

The boy sighed while straightening up. He looked her over with a scrutinising gaze, trying to find any signs that she was joking or would cave in with enough teasing, however Abby had regained her composure. She also shouldered her bag; the fire was gone from her eyes though they remained completely green. She turned around fully and began to decend the stairs.

"You told Luna." The way Abby froze for a split-second clearly signaled Josh he was right. She halted her movement. Josh followed her so he stood on the same step as her.

"… Yes…", she answered after a while, even though it had been more of a statement than a question, "That was sheer idiocy on my part, but it's too late to reverse it now." In spite of her words a small smile stole its way on her face.

"And besides…", she added although broke off mid-sentence. Josh perked up.

"What?" Abby shook her head.

"Nothing. We should hurry, otherwise there'll be no lunch left for us." Anything but satisfied with this reply, Josh snorted but surrendered and allowed Abby to wrap her arm around his waist and shortly nuzzle his neck in an apologetic fashion.

… _I can't bring myself to regret it_…

**--**

No Luna in this one. Huh…

And Yay! for some more Abby/Josh interaction!

R&R


End file.
